every second dripping off my fingertips

Friday, November 21, 2008

Sometimes it's good to look back and reminisce about the times when life was good, we had fun, and had nothing to worry about. And then we ask, how did everything disappear. Like a ship sailing into the distance. A distant memory it has become, and that's all we have now. The memory. The memory tortures us. I swear if there's anything I'd wish to get rid of now, it's good memories that have turned sour, because of the things I've done, because I know those times will never come back again. The ship has sailed, but what made it turn around and leave? Change.

How things change is quite simple. It's complication.

Yes, that's the word. Complication. A word which all of us are familiar with, or at least have come to know these past few years. IB students (and even IP) have come to realise that this is a part of everyday life. From bullshitting in papers to bullshitting even along the corridor, complication has become our inter-school past time. I mean, come on... we take the sweet and eat it, but then our teeth get stuck in the sweetness, and then we think to ourselves, "is it really worth a few more chews?"

"Will I choke when I swallow?"

Innuendos aside, one must ask, is there a way to avoid change? Well the answer is obviously yes. Temporary it might be, but no change keeps things simple. Why let something good become totally different, like another noun, when it's already 'good'? You switch the words around here and there, then it becomes an anagram, but really, it's because we don't know the outcome, that's why we're so afraid of change. Interestingly enough (or not), change is inevitable. It'll come slow, but it'll come anyway, so why avoid it? Ride the waves man. Oh but there are so many questions. Will I be swallowed? Will the board hold my weight? How long will it last?

It's all about the angle, and the timing, and whether you're well prepared not just for the consequences, but for the long road ahead.

I know this post might have felt distant, but this is one of those where it is difficult to make coherent. Thoughts are a marvellous thing: they tell the whole story, but only the story you know. If you know this story, then you probably have felt my pain too.

somewhere a clock is ticking:
11:05 PM